Give Her What She Deserves


Since I was as young as five years old, I was told to sit with my legs crossed, because god forbid if anyone sees what’s between my thighs. ‘Sit with your legs crossed, because that’s how ladies sit’. And if you don’t sit like that then you are nothing but a woman of questionable character. Because who sits with their legs wide-spread? Sitting like that only means that you are inviting unexpected visitors to the most sacred place of your body. The place you should preserve in its purest form till the time you get married. Don’t wear your skirt too short because if you do then you will be asking for it. Because then you are a slut. A whore. A bitch. Do not leave the house after its dark because you don’t want to distract other travelers at night by your mere presence. If you step out of your house after eight in the evening, then be prepared to face the consequences. Because if you get molested or raped, it won’t be their mistake. It would be yours. Because you were out in the dark. Not their problem that they couldn’t control their hormones. And dare you speak loudly! Speak in a low tone; preferably just mumble. Because let’s be honest, it does not look decent when girls talk loudly. And do not even think of swearing. It makes you look so hideous. It’s against your feminine grace. And please for God’s sake just understand that if guys follow you around and harass you on the streets in the daylight, it’s their way of showing their unrequited love. They don’t touch your breasts because they want to sleep with you. No. what rubbish! They just do that because you were wearing a very provocative dress like sleeveless top. See! It’s your fault again. Like women! When are going to understand that rape will never be their fault. It is always going to be your mistake. We ourselves are responsible because at the end of the day who gives birth to them? WOMEN!

I am sickened. I am tired. I feel awful and miserable. I am heartbroken and desolated. I fail to understand that why every time I leave the house wearing a short dress there are always a pair of eyes following me. Or I should say my thighs. And if my thighs are not slim enough, I will be condemned. Why am I criticized for my chubby figure and why is my waist expected to like an hour-glass? Why is my voice only meant to quiver and why am I expected to remain pure for my husband? Why should I aspire to grow up, marry, settle down and have children?

Many girls won’t be able to relate to a lot of things written above because they are privileged enough to have parents who want them to first stand on their own two feet, earn, enjoy and then get married. They get to make their own life choices. They are not scared because they are emotionally supported. But there are about millions of girls out there who are lonely and scared. Who don’t have any support. They don’t have a roof over their head, let alone a sanitary napkin. They have to venture out alone in the dark to get food and water for their families. They come across vultures. They are hunted by them. Its 21st century, the age of internet and smartphones and still millions of girls live in a world where it’s still the medieval period, where they are still sold like goods and used like old clothes. Why? What did they actually do to deserve all this?

Change your attitude. Change your mindset. Change your perspective towards girls. Men, women both are human. Either both of them live, or no one lives. And since both have to live, why not start respecting one another? Why not start embracing them and their flaws? Women are beautiful, clever and all-rounders. They are more than what they are thought of. Just give them a chance. Just respect them for once.


Redemption


Every tear went unnoticed,

Every wound went unattended.

She knew how bad it was,

But never did she ever question it.


Everyday a new brawl,

Everyday a new squabble.

Everyday was as though,

An invitation for a new battle.


She knew this was toxic,

Never paid attention.

For every touch was cosmic

Ignored the redemption.


The end would be painful

Little did she know.

But for the lovely present,

She let everything else go.




Its weird.

Its very weird. I dont know how a person can just unlove you in a week and forget everything that you both had done for months. Its very weird to see yourself working your ass off to make a relationship work, and at the end, you get to hear them saying that they are trying to love you. It very very weird to touch that person and feel everything. Very weird for them to touch you and feel nothing. Its very weird to love them with your heart and soul only to realise that they dont love you the way they used earlier. Its weird to see things not working out even when you try your best. Its weird to just cry alone and not have a shoulder for support.

Peculiar Love

There are many forms of love. The love which you feel for your parents. The one which you feel for your friends. The one which you feel for your bestfriend. And there is one which you feel for your dog. But there is this peculiar form of love which you feel for that one person. This type of love is so weirdly beautiful that even their flaws look perfect. You try to find something bad in them, something which would make you hate them, but then while you are at it, you fall for them even more. Their habits seem yours. Their problems seem yours. Their worries seem yours. You want to share everything and you want to be there for them and with them through thick and thin. 

In this type of love, you want to feel them. You want to kiss them, but more than that you just want to hug them tight and forget all the problems. Forget what you were saying, forget what you were thinking. You just want to hold onto them tight and never let them go. Yes you want to make love with them, but just lying on the bed with them and talking about completely irrelevant stuff seems like a nice idea. 

It feels as if they put the stars in the dark sky and remove all the darkness.

This form of love is very very peculiar.

Feels.

​I am lying in the bed. 

Crying for a guy whom I told that I dont cry for guys. I am not crying because I cant touch him. That i cant kiss. I can do all of that. I am just crying because I cant feel him. I can feel his hands around my body. When his hands are below my waist. But I rather want his hands in my hands. Even if that happens I know he wont feel the love. He wont feel the affection. The warmth. 

He thinks I talk to alot of guys. He has no idea I ignore all for him. I try hard not reply to his texts. But I fail. He texts me when he is bored. I text him whenever the hell I get the time. If I dont get time to text him, he makes sure that he is on my mind. All the fucking time.

He has no idea how hard I am crying these days. Like my eyes are literally raining tears. And I was never this sort of girl. I never cry for guys. Especially the ones with attitude. But why the fuck him then. Every unanswered text draws a line between us. Unfortunately the lines are drawn on my wrist with a knife.

Crazy right. But just think how hard it is to walk in the school corridor, look at him and pretend everything is okay. Pretend that I dont love him. Pretend that I am a bitch with boss ass personality. Pretend that he dosent matter. Pretend that if not him then I have hundered other options. But he is the only one. After all in reality I am just a weekling. I need attention and care. 

I dont want to be one of the girls in his life. I want to the one. Cliché, right?He is says that I am the only one. But I know that when he calls me baby, I am definetely not the only one. Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks. Beyonce is taking over me. 

All of this is so strange. I wish not to feel this. I wish I could be like him: kiss and yet feel nothing. Or wish he could be like me: kiss and feel everything.

Love. Lust. 

It was no strings attached.
It felt good at the begining.

But then all the strings inside her broke.

What she thought was lust soon turned to love.

But the sad part of the story was that he still had his strings tight and intact.

So what he thought was lust was actually just lust for him.

Every time they were together she wished to feel him.

Every time they were togthere he wished to touch her.

She was emotionally attached.

He was physically awestruck. 

There thoughts were different. Completely opposite.

But they both wanted eachother.

For different reasons.

Some times you just cant have things the way you want them to.